


Rise up and Salute the Sun

by quicksylver28



Series: Prompts, Drabbles & Teasers [9]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-01-07 02:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18401270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksylver28/pseuds/quicksylver28
Summary: The Iron King has no heart. The Iron King has no soul.The Iron King certainly has no soul mate.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i saw a prompt in a writer's group and a plot bunny jumped up and bit me. this was supposed to be a vignette 500-2000 words but the more i thought about the world i was building, the more the story fleshed out before my eyes. now it won't let me go. :( 
> 
> i'm going to see how much i can hash out tonight so i can try to get it out of my system and get back to April RT. wish me luck.

This is the prompt image.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

The Iron King has no heart. The Iron King has no soul.

The Iron King certainly has no soul mate.

Anthony repeated the mantra to himself as the mark high on his inner thigh gave a tingle. It did that now and then, too often for something that supposedly didn’t exist. He shifted minutely in his armor, pressing his mark against the inner workings of the suit and kept all expression off his face.

He’d long since learned how to deal random spikes from his mark, never letting that he was still affected by what most within the Citadel would call a weakness.

He was the Iron King and the Iron King has no weakness.

He studiously ignored as the tingle turned into a throb, keeping his attention of the Advisor currently droning on about the latest incursions. His sharp mind snagged on one detail and he raised his gauntleted hand. The advisor immediately fell silent, as did the rest of the war room. He turned his sharp brown eyes to the map floating above his war table.

“The latest attack on the Solar Forge out at Lost Leaf. That’s the tenth one that been hit along the border in as many months. ”

“Those damn rebels.” Rhodes growled at his side, his own armored hand fisted as he smacked it down on the table in frustration.

The table shook, the holographic map floating above it flickering briefly before steadying. Nobody even blinked, accustomed to the General taking his ire out on the furniture. Tony nodded for the advisor to continue, listening closely to the detailed report of the indecent.

It hadn't been a successful one, the Forge’s fortified defenses hardly affected by the attack but the fact that the frequency of incursions from the penumbra had increased incrementally was very worrying.

No one in the Citadel believed that the Solar Forges would ever fall. Just as the Iron King sat on the Rex Solaris, so would the Sunlight Kingdom ever prosper. Anthony on the other hand, was a pragmatist. Expect the best, Prepare for the worst. He had to be the one to look beyond the obvious, to stand against the encroaching darkness.

His mind raced even as the Advisor returned to their previous droning, his armored fingers tapping softly against the heavy armrest. Finally, the war council dispersed and he was left alone with his general.

“You seem perturbed, Monarch.” Rhodes observed, coming to stand at his side on the balcony.

He said nothing else as he’d always been a man of few words. Anthony appreciated his forthrightness, fed up of court simpering and political machinations. Rhodes was honest, honourable and most importantly, loyal to the Iron King. He was also the closest thing to a friend that Anthony had ever known.

They looked out unto city for a while, its tall spires of gold and glass gleaming in the eternal gaze of the Sun God Sol. Sol was waning, reaching its lowest zenith in the east. It would never truly set for Sol never removed his gaze from the Sunlight Kingdom, but sometimes he would slide low enough to form antumbra shadows in the west.

Anthony cast his gaze there, seeing the gleaming gold turn orange as light filtered through the towers of glass. He could sense the Iron Legion there, hovering just within the direct sunlight and reflecting it down to the grateful citizens. Doing their duty to their people and to their King.

He turned to face Rhodes, allowing a slight frown form on his face. “The attacks on the Solar Forges are becoming a concern. They may not be strong enough for overwhelm the fortress ramparts but one of them may get lucky. To lose a forge to sabotage would weaken the others.”

“My spies are being discovered far too soon for them for them to provide suitable data.” Rhodes growled, “Those penumbra scoundrels may just have some luck on their side. They are getting better at slipping away from our grasp. It doesn’t make sense. They’ve always been a rag tag group, hardly able to come together enough for a decent skirmish. It makes no sense for them to be so…”

“Organized. They’ve found a leader.” Anthony finished, quirking his eyebrow barely.

He looked out unto the city once more, the view of which still took his breath away. Beyond the city and far away, a thin dark line crept along the horizon, stretching from east to west. Tony’s sharp eyes followed the line and felt a twinge in his soul mark.

Rhodes humphed, his heavy armor gleaming as he shifted. “Seems more like the shadow scum finally found some poor bugger to push out in front of the rabble horde. Don’t worry Monarch, we will still crush them and chase them back into the darkness. Then we will find the scuttling cockroach of a leader and they will feel the full might of Sol’s holy fire.”

Anthony nodded at Rhodes’ fiery words but he did not feel as confident. There was something out there. Something coming closer. He could feel it. Something in the darkness that was beyond Sol’s gaze.

He took a breath, feeling the armor move with him. Whatever it was, he would face it.

The Iron King would fight back the darkness as all the previous Iron Kings had done for generations long past. With his holy armour, with his Iron Legions, with the blessing of the great Sol himself, God of the sky and giver of light; he would face it.

And just as all of the previous Iron Kings before him, he would win.


	2. Chapter 2

The Forge at North Pass burned, belching massive columns of black smoke into the ever blue skies. Raging hot flames flickered within the black cloud as cascading explosions slung burning debris and ash far out unto the fields of green below. The fire roared like a beast, licks of the almost white flame reaching up hungrily to where Anthony hovered, several of the Iron legion in formation around him like an honour guard.

From his vantage point, high above the forge, Anthony could faintly hear the screams of the fleeing citizens of the usually idyllic farming community situated snugly around the base of the forge. He’d already dispatched some of the Legion to help evacuate, guiding people into the arms of local peace keepers. 

The whine of Rhodes’ thrusters drew closer, the gleam of his armor tarnished by soot and ash. “They got in through one of the intake valves, the godless scum. Tore right through the reinforced titanium.” He held a piece of melted slag in one hand. “Some kind of thermobaric ordinance. Used at the base of the main solar array. It didn’t do much damage to the machine itself but the fuel-oxygen combustion of the bomb ruptured the photovaltic tanks and set off a chain reaction.”

Anthony nodded just as another explosion boomed from deep within the burning fortress. “We’ve managed to secure the main conduit, locking off the feedback to the other forges. The rest of the grid is holding and I’ve doubled security measures at the remaining forges.” 

North Pass was lost. Nothing would be salvaged from the solar works. The fortress would probably weather the fires well enough but rebuilding would take years. His mind was already running through plans to compensate for the loss of resources and how the solar power grid would hold up under the demand. He would leave it for the council of governors to hash out the details. That’s what they were there for. 

It was the Iron King’s job to make sure that something like this didn’t happen in the first place. And… he had failed. Cold rage burned through his veins and he felt his armored fists clench. Anthony took a deep breath, forcing the emotion down deep. The Iron King was not ruled by his emotions. The Iron King did not feel.

The Iron King was the holy hand of Sol.

Mind clear and sharp, he glanced past Rhodes and the burning forge to the dark mountains where the gaze of Mighty Sol ended and the Penumbra territory sat, laying like a crouching beast in wait. 

“So much for rabble scum with nothing but luck on their side.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

“The loss at North Pass is unacceptable. How could those dirty shadow dwellers even get through the defenses?” the Governor of Phoebus District was red in the face, hands braced on the large round table of the Council Chambers. “And what about the power that has been lost? The new Forges at Glist and Kragenheed won’t be competed for another five years. What will be done for the areas affected by power loss?”

“All of that will be dealt with accordingly Phoebus.” Soleil District’s Governor sat forward, her grey hair pinned in ringlets that fell around her shoulders. “What must be addressed now is the Penumbra threat. We have all underestimated the shadow lands and dismissed them as scattered bands of scavengers, lurking in the darkness beyond Sol’s blessed gaze. Now we now that they are more organized and much more of a threat to our way of life and the safety of our people.”

They all looked as one to Anthony, who was seated at the head of the table; chin resting on one armored fist. He looked back at them, noting the surprise and fear barely hidden behind their calm facades. They were afraid. All of them. They’d never known a threat like this in their lifetimes. 

The Iron Kings of old had paved the brutal way for peace, protecting the Sunlight Kingdom from enemies lurking in the deep shadows of the Umbra, razing their ranks with the unrelenting and merciless gaze of Sol.

It had been a time of blood and ash. A time of countless bodies scorched and burning in the fields along the penumbra border. When the shadowed armies had finally been driven back into the dark, their strength and will all but broken, the Citadel had decreed it as a blessing from the Sun God himself. They were his chosen peoples and were entitled to all upon which his endless gaze fell. 

The Sunlight Kingdom was Sol’s heart. And the Iron King was his mighty fist. 

“We will find them and burn them all the way to their blackened hearts.” He gave the council a solemn nod before standing, his soul mark pulsing under his armor. “I will not fail you again.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

“You didn’t fail us, you know.” Virginia’s voice was soft in the vast chamber. “No one expected the Penumbra dogs to actually take down a Solar Forge. They are nigh fortresses.” 

Her soft step swished against the thick rugs that lined the cold marble floors. She smelled like citrus, her flame red hair falling loose around her shoulders. It had been quite a scandal amongst the court as she was happily bonded, her mate Hogan too smitten with his wife to care that she didn’t curl and pin it like other bonded ladies of good repute. She set the tray laden with his meal at his elbow, nudging a few of his little mechanical trinkets out of the way carefully. 

Tony shrugged, finally able to show some feeling in the safety of his private chambers. “We lost North Pass. In the end, that’s on me.”

She didn’t reply, only laid her hand on his shoulder in silent support. He gradually relaxed his hunched shoulders, feeling the warm of her palm through the thin material of his night shirt. It had been a while since he’d been touched so casually, most of his time spent amongst his people in full armor. 

It was only here, in his private rooms; that he could afford to loosen the tight hold he usually kept on himself. Only here could he set down the armor and be something other than the Iron King, protector and servant of the people. 

Here he could just be Anthony, just a man with a big heart who loved his people dearly. A man with driving need to learn and fix and build new and better things with his hands and with his genius intellect. A man with a soul mark that wasn’t supposed to exist and a true love that he would never be allowed to know. 

Alas, the life of an Iron King was one of service. He’d been chosen as a child to take up the mantle and he would carry that weight on his shoulders until he died. There was no other life fated for him. He lived entirely for the Citadel and for the safe keeping of its beloved peoples.

There was no other choice. tomorrow, at Sol's zenith, he would take some of the Iron legion and go into the shadows of the Penumbra. He would find the ones responsible for the destruction of North Pass and he would destroy them. He would bring unto them the merciless wrath of Sol and scorch out the very core of their blackened souls.

The Iron King would do his duty to the Sunlight Kingdom.

The Iron King would not fail. 

Not again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the other chapters were inspired by this next picture inspiration and by now i've blown all the word count requirements of the challenge but i'm just enjoying this too damn much to care.

 

The Unlit Mountains loomed in the dark horizon, the bright warmth of the Citadel falling further and further away as each second ticked by. Lush fields of green and crystal blue lakes gave way arid and rocky land, the clear azure skies clouding over and turning dark.

The border lands were a long stretch of nothingness, flat arid land where nothing grew and the heavy clouds belched up lightning and caustic rain that fell almost constantly.

Rhodes hadn’t been at all  happy with the plan but Anthony had been adamant. He would track the culprits right back to their dark hovels and rain Sol’s wrath down on them. With two whole garrisons of Legion at his command, the sky would be filled with light and flame.

Rhodes would stay behind in the Sunlight Kingdom, sworn protector of the citadel in Anthony’s stead; just in case the enemy sought to attack at a time of perceived weakness. The General had eventually nodded, grasping Anthony on the forearm and bringing their foreheads together.

They’d stood like that for a few long moments before letting go and abruptly parting ways. There were so many things unsaid in that simple motion, so many hopes and wishes and maybe even farewells. A soldier’s life walked step by step with death. A King’s life even more so.

When it came down to it. I was a king’s duty to stand between his kingdom and any threat brought against it. He, and no one else, would be the one to finish the fight that the shadow horde started.

They’d just cleared the step and craggy mountains when the attack came, blue light erupting from below to burst through the air around him. He swerved sharply, deftly navigating through the barrage of artillery as legionnaires were destroyed en masse around him.

He yelled for counter measures, scanning for the source of the weapons fire. Legionnaires veered left and right, gliding through the air like some kind of deadly aerial ballet; ripped apart by the barrage of blue lights and tossed to the harsh ground below like broken dolls.

The battle was short and brutal, the bombardment from below heavy and unceasing. He lost too many of his Iron Legion, just a fraction of them still intact by the end. He swore a streak at himself violently in his helm, cursing his own hubris and stupidity. Yet again he’d fallen into the trap of underestimating the enemy.

One of the blue lights grazed his side and took out the power for half his suit half his suit, the suddenly dead weight making him fall from the sky like a stone. As he spun, struggling to regain control, he instructed three of the Legion to peel away from the conflict and head back to the Citadel. They needed to report to his General. Four more of the remaining Legion came to him, bracing his suit and slowing his speed until they all hit the ground with a crash.

He blacked out from the impact, as slowed as it was, coming to in an alcove surrounded by four of the Legion. Two of them were barely functional and one lay broken and inert. The remaining one was standing guard, continuously scanning the surroundings for enemy movement. Anthony checked his suit with a grimace, the damaged half was still dead, no matter how many times he tried to bypass or reboot the system. He eventually had to abandon it, the final Legionnaire helping him to peel off the heavy armor.

His thin under suit provided almost no protection against the chill winds, and the rocky landscape was barely visible in the gloom.

The remaining legionnaire proved stubborn, refusing to leave his side. It was too damaged to lift him out over the mountains to escape and didn’t have enough power to connect to the hive mind.

It was able to scavenge and extra battery pack and weapons from the mangled legionnaires while Anthony equipped everything thing he could from his armor. He felt a pang at leaving it behind. The crimson and red suit had been a part of his life for so long and he felt naked and vulnerable without it.

Still, he was more than his armor. He was more than a metal suit marked with the gold of Sol’s blessing and red for the life’s blood of the Kings that came before him. He was his vast intellect and his skilled hands. He was the courage in his heart and the determination to finish the task he’d started. He was the Iron King and he still had a duty to his people. Armor or not.

He instructed the legionnaire to dig, burying the broken automatons as well as his own armor so that they would not fall into enemy hands. A location beacon would allow them to return at a later date for retrieval.

They made their way across the rocky landscape carefully with goggles that he’d jury-rigged from the optics of one of the fallen legion. They were crude and did not fit well on his head but they allowed him to see well enough in the dark. The way was treacherous and slow, deep ravines and sharp cliffs appearing out of nowhere to claim their lives.

The legionnaire flagged after a while, switching out its solar battery for a new one. Anthony frowned at the sight. They’d relied so much on solar energy, the legion charging and recharging themselves from Sol’s light. No one had ever thought about how long they would last away from that resource. Even the cold of space was within Sol’s loving gaze.

Soon enough, they came across some activity and quickly sought cover so that they could observe unseen. A small group of scavengers were digging in some kind of pit. Above the pit, some kind of ground vehicle was parked. A rigged array of the same blue light from the weaponry shone down upon the diggers.

Adjusting the optics, Anthony observed them for a while, taking careful note of what the diggers wore, where they were and what kind of equipment they were using to dig. The vehicle looked fascinating and for a moment, he wished that he could just set it all aside and explore how the massive thing worked. Citadel mechanics all functioned on direct solar energy conversion and looked and sounded nothing like these machines.

Engaging in its limited stealth shielding, the legionnaire worked its way down to the vehicle and secured an unattended hooded coat and some loose radio equipment. Anthony quickly shrugged on the garment, grateful for its sturdy, if not smelly, protection from the chill winds. He quickly cracked open the strange re-breather mask slash communication device attached to the coat, delving into its inner workings curiously.

They observed the crew for a while before creeping closer. His intent was to hijack the vehicle, take the crew hostage and make them take him to rebel command. He’d be lost for too long in this wilderness if he tried to find their base on foot and the dark terrain had proven extremely dangerous to traverse.

There were five in the crew, four diggers and one driver in the cab of the vehicle. He went for the driver first, catching the man as he stepped out to relieve himself. The man was snatched up and put in a sleeper hold until he blacked out, his wrists and feet secured quickly by the legionnaire. The inside of the truck was just as fascinating, Anthony’s mind racing as he explored. It used some kind of carbon based energy which fascinated him to no end.

After that, it was quick work to get the drop on the rest of the crew and they too, were secured and stowed in the back of the large cab. The sight of the legionnaire surprised them, the captives drawing back from it whenever it went near them.

Removal of their masks revealed three men and a woman, all middle aged with faces extremely pale and smeared with soot. They all remained tight lipped in the face of his questions so he gagged them and set the Legionnaire on sentry mode.

The blue light lit the cab dimly as Anthony got the vehicle started, flushing with secret pride that he’d been able to figure out such strange technology so quickly. He made the awakened driver his navigator and the vehicle crawled forth towards the nearest base.

Along the way, the legionnaire tried to interface with the truck’s tech but all attempts failed. It seemed that the robot was just too advanced or too different for the truck because it had more success with the newer looking comm unit.

After a while the captives began to lose their fear and became more curious of the robot keeping guard. One of them made a noise of recognition, their eyes darting from Anthony’s hooded and masked face to the tarnished gold visage of the automaton. The driver turned navigator carefully directed them between an out cropping of rocks, revealing a sheltered canyon; at the end of which stood a large set of doors.

It was only when the doors began opening with a loud cranking sound did Anthony curse his own stupidity. He’d done it again, he’d underestimated the rebels. The navigator had offered no code, no password. He hadn’t even looked at the radio once, even when it was being hacked by the legionnaire.

Bright blue light shone from the open doorway and they were surrounded.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

He watched coldly as they stripped the Legionnaire of its battery pack and shot it with one of the strange weapons that emitted the blue light. He would not show these penumbra scum emotions. He would not be weak before the enemy. They then turned to him, guns trained on his head and chest, before stripping him of his stolen cloak and all of his tech; leaving him in only the under suit.

The cut on his face was still bleeding from where he’d taken a gun butt to the head and was dripping blood down his hair line and into the neck of his suit. They asked many questions, gesturing to his tech laid out on a nearby table but he remained silent, his mind racing as his eyes took in everything that he could.

Finally, fed up with his stoic silence yet seemingly reluctant to harm him physically; they took him to an empty room and closed the door behind him.

It was a small room, cold and dark. There was a small light in the corner and he gravitated towards it. He’d never been anywhere this dark before. Never been so far from Sol’s gaze. He suppressed a shiver, struggling to keep himself calm. He was in the hands of his enemies, far away from home and safety. He walked straight into a trap and had seen his last ally lost because of it.

He’d failed. Yet again he’d failed. He ducked his head away from the light as he tried his distress show on his face, his heart beating like a rabbit behind his ribs. Taking several deep and slow breaths, he stood just under the single dim light and tried to concentrate on how he was going to get out of this.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“Hey, Lightsider. Time to go.”

The door swung open and he blinked at the light that flooded through the doorway. There were three guards were silhouetted in the dim blue and he followed them without protest until they entered a large, well lit space.

 

The lights were brighter here, a harsh white that made him wince after so much darkness. He was surprised at the brilliance, his heart finally calming as he stepped closer to the huge lamps that hung over head.

 

He was made to stop before a small work area, one of the vehicles was up on blocks for repair. Several parts had been set aside for what looked like cleaning and tables full of some strange and some familiar tools were lying about.

“I’d never seen a Legionnaire up close before” a voice came from behind him and Anthony froze. The voice was deep, reverberating through the air and sending a shiver down his spine. “I’m torn between being terrified and intrigued. They’d always been like the boogie man to us. Spectres of heat and light ready to snatch naughty children out of their beds.”

He kept his gaze straight ahead, his chin up and defiant. He would not show weakness in front of these rebel scum. The owner of the voice walked around him to stand at one of the table. His shoulders were broad, stretching his navy blue wool shirt across his muscled back.

His skin was pale, much like everyone Anthony had seen so far, but there were patches of pink along his arms, wrists and neck. This man had been in sunlight. Very recently in fact. Anthony narrowed his eyes as the man absently rooted around on the table for some tool or the other.

“You’re the leader.” Anthony murmured. “You’re the one who been bringing the rebels together and organizing them. We knew that there had to be someone.”

“Guilty as charged” the man chuckled, his laugh warm and unrestrained as he seemed to find the tool he was searching for and turned to face the captured King.

That was when the bottom fell out of Anthony’s world.

The man was gorgeous. With the eyes as blue as cloudless skies, lips as full and red as sweet, ripe apples and hair as gold at the citadel’s highest peak. In the light of Sol he would be glorious to behold.

And on his collar bone, half covered by the wool of his shirt; sat a soul mark that looked identical to the one now burning high on Tony’s inner thigh.

“I’m glad that you appreciate my work.” the man who Anthony had never dreamed of meeting in real life smiled, and by Sol he was beautiful. “You can call me the Captain.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok... it's getting a little angsty here but i promise it will get better. Poor Tony. i'm sucker for happy endings and i'm trying really hard not to get too sad with this.

It took everything in him not to react. He had to scream his mantra in the maelstrom of his mind so that his body did not do something stupid, like throw itself at his soul mate and cling desperately to him.

The great and mighty Sol was truly a selfish and merciless bastard.

He’d already resigned himself to never being able to meet or have a life with the one who made his soul mark tingle. Even if the person had been some random citizen of the sunlight kingdom, even if they’d been a nobleman of even a Counselor. Even if his soul mate had been Rhodes himself, he would not have been able to give himself wholly unto them as the soul bond ordained.

The Iron King had no heart.    
The Iron King had no soul.    
The Iron King had no soul mate.  
The Iron King was the hand of Sol.  
Thus it had always been and thus it would ever be.

He had to crush that part of him. He had to kill that dangerous hope. He could not show weakness nor doubt. This man was his enemy and would kill him in an instant the moment he found out who he really was.

He forced himself back to the situation at hand, taking a quick glance around the room. Despite it being so large, there were few people actually present. And all of them were wearing full body armor and face masks.

There were three up front, two men and a woman. Some kind of honour guard to the rebel leader. The taller man was a brunet, built big and broad just like the captain was. The smaller man was a dirty blonde, stocky and compact. He had some sort of strung weapon slung across his back and an actual quiver of arrows.

The woman moved with the deadly grace of one of the Sun Lotus courtesans, no doubt there were at least a dozen small and maybe even poisoned blades secreted about her body. A curl of vibrant red hair had escaped from her rough wool skull cap and hung tucked behind her ear.

They were all staring at him, eyes cold and hands on their weapons. They were right to do so. To have an unknown like him so close to their leader was taunting danger and the three seemed to be well aware of it, despite the Captain's relaxed demeanor. Rhodes would have never let an enemy within a hundred feet of him and then only through thick sheets of lucent glass and a squadron of the Legion. 

"Am I boring you?" The deep voice startled him and he flinched, cursing himself for not paying better attention. He looked up into sharp blue eyes and held their gaze. "I guess you must find our dark little corner of the planet primitive compared to the bright shining future you've known."

The man was close. Too close for Anthony's comfort as well as the peace of mind of his guard. Anthony could see them tensing out of the corner of his eyes, the brunet making an aborted step forward before carefully pulling back.

Anthony kept his gaze on the man before him, clenching his jaw and refusing to be the one to look away first. He said nothing, letting his silence speak for him. He would give them nothing. The Iron King did not parley with rebel scum. The Iron King crushed them under his boot. 

These dark dwellers would get nothing from him. Only a fiery death when Rhodes brought an unstoppable wave of Legion to either bring him home or avenge his death. Either way, he would tell the rebels nothing. He would give them nothing. He would not be a weakness to the safety of the citadel.

The blond looked amused, which irritated Anthony to no end. He was not a joke. His rage must have shown in his eyes because the blond's smile widened. "Oh you are going to be a feisty one aren't you? I've heard that you Lightsiders run hot from being in the sun all the time… I guess that means hot in temper as well as blood."

One of the guards chuckled behind him and Anthony felt his hand curl into fists, a flush crawling up his neck. Thank Sol for the under suit, thin as it was. He forced himself to breathe evenly, unfurling his fists and letting his hands fall relaxed at his sides. 

He would not be baited by this man and his stunning smile. He lifted hi chin in defiance, meeting the Captain's gaze with narrowed eyes. He felt vulnerable without his armor. He missed its weight on his shoulders, the power at his fingertips, its golden gleam under Sol's gaze, the shield it provided from the world around him.

In this cold and dark place, he felt naked, weak and at the mercy of the shadows that lurked at every corner. The Rebel leader had him at a disadvantage and it galled him to be in such a position. 

He shivered violently, both from the bone deep cold of the place and from the doubt that wanted to rise up and clog his throat. The captain blinked at him and tilted his head.

"You're cold. You must be." he murmured almost to himself. "All you've known is the sun's kiss."

The blond nodded at one of the rebels and soon enough there was a thick, dark coat being offered to Anthony. He stared at the garment for a few second before looking up at the other man in confusion.

"Take it. Wear it." the captain gestured to the clothing. "I won't have guest freeze to death in my humble home." 

Anthony quirked a skeptical brow at the word 'guest' but tentatively took the fabric and shrugged it on. It was thick and heavy and kept the cold from him from his chin straight down to brush against his feet. It felt a bit like donning his armor and that gave him an odd sense of comfort.

He gave a soft sigh of relief and tugged the material snugly around his body. After so long, he finally felt warm again. Smoothing his hand down the front of the coat, he looked up to see those amused blue eyes again and scowled in response. 

"What… no thank you?" The captain's lip twitched at the corners. "Tough crowd." 

Anthony found himself huffing without even thinking about it, his lips twitching slightly before he could rule his face back to impassivity. Unfortunately, the blond had been looking at him intently and had caught the slip. Those stunning blue eyes brightened and that full mouth hitched smugly at the corners. 

"Well, if you have nothing to say to us, we have other ways of gaining information." The rebel Captain looked over his shoulder at his guard. "Take him to the Doc."

He ends up following the redhead out of the large room, looking back just once to catch a glimpse of the blond over the shoulders of the other two rebels. He was standing there, watching them leave with the strangest look on his face.

Anthony felt oddly bereft as he passed out of sight, turning back to face the dark maw that opened before him. The strange blue lights that seemed to indicate power in almost everything ran along the walls at eye level, illuminating the tunnel just enough to make out the roughly hewn walls and sloping steps. 

Thankfully, the floor was smooth under the thin soles of his boots. He pulled the thick coat closer, eyes taking in every detail as they made their way down the long steps.

Once in a while they would pass an open doorway, carved directly from the bedrock. The room beyond would be lit with the same blue light, its occupant bustling around the small cramped space, hard at work.

Whenever he slowed too much. Got too curious at the strange and quirky machinery, the shorter rebel behind him would nudges him forward and send him stumbling. 

The first time he'd whipped around to glare at the man but had only smirked at him in return. The few times after that Anthony made sure to not give the man the satisfaction of a response. 

They finally arrived as a larger doorway, this one had an actual door that opened on rumbling tracks. The room beyond was fitted with the same white lights as the large room from before. It seemed to be some kind of tech kept for the more important areas.

The 'Doc' was a short, broad man with salt and pepper curls and a rumpled grey coat. He greeted them all with a sheepish nod, taking a moment to stare at Anthony in ill-disguised curiosity before shuffling over to a covered table.

Before anyone else could speak, the man whipped the thin cloth away to reveal the dismembered body of his last legionnaire. Anthony staggered forward a half step at the sight before stilling and forcing all emotion from his face.   
He felt cold all over, even with the thick coat and he was certain that his face had blanched white.

The droid had been taken apart expertly and laid out in a parody of resting peacefully, it's innards extracted and laid in a gruesome web of wires and nodes. The data processing unit has been scooped out of the split open cranium and was on suspension grid, electrode needles stuck into various parts of the gelatinous neural net and connecting via glowing wires to some kind of computer terminal.

The chest had been opened up but the inner chamber remained intact, Thank Sol. At least they hadn't been able to access the solar engine. There was a failsafe built into the engine that would cause it to collapse if breached forcefully. 

The resulting explosion would sure decimate the underground facility they were standing in, funneling heat and flame outwards through the man-made tunnels.

He debated for a second whether to warn them of the danger but kept his lips pressed firm together. He would surely perish in the resulting explosion but at least he would manage to take out the rest of the rebel base with him. 

The shadow leadership would die, the Captain, his inner circle. Those responsible for the burning of the forge at North Pass. The Penumbra horde would be left leaderless, scattering like the roaches they were before the blazing wrath of Sol. 

The rebellion would be shattered and he would have achieved his mission. Even in death. The Iron King's life was to serve the Citadel and he would gladly give it in the name of duty.

He looked down at the destroyed Legionnaire. The stubbornly loyal android who'd saved his life many times over in the short time that they'd had only each other in a strange, cold land. 

It looked so exposed, broken on the cold slab table like that, defenseless against the savagery visited upon it by cold and unfeeling hands. He felt the blood boil in his veins, his temper burning like acid behind his ribcage.

He met the Doctor's solemn gaze and gave him the full brunt and weight of his royal glare. The man flinched and shrunk back, looking past Anthony's shoulder as if seeking aide.

The brunet followed his gaze, back to the shadowed door where the Captain slowly stepped into the light. Those blue eyes were cold and calculating as the blond leaned his broad frame against the door way.

Anthony curled his lip, his brown eyes sparking with anger. It had all been a test, a trap set by the rebels to set him off balance, to observe how he responded to the sight of his soldier ripped apart and destroyed. He gestured sharply at the whole tableau, as if saying 'satisfied?' 

Apparently the blond seemed to understand him well enough because as he nodded soberly, gaze flitting between the brunet and the dissected droid. Anthony held his gaze, standing tall and unwavering as he faced against the rebel leader in a silent battle of wills. 

He wasn't sure how long they stood there, neither one willing to look away first. The tense moment was finally broken when the Doctor knocked over one of the droid's hands and it fell off the table in a loud clatter.

The entire room tensed, spinning to face the sheepish and apologetic man. After a few seconds, they all relaxed, the trio of guards easing their weapons back into their holsters. It seemed to break the spell because the Captain spoke, his voice reverberating through the room.

"I've got all I need for now. Give our guest a hot and a cot. We can start again in the morning."

And with those disquieting words, he melted back into the dark of the tunnel and disappeared on silent feet; leaving Anthony standing alone and strangely cold, surrounded on all sides by his enemies. 

The gravity of the situation finally hit him then, the cold and brutal truth that the one fated by destiny to complete him, body, mind, heart and soul; was the one who most likely be the death of him before this was all over.

He felt both blessed and cursed, his duty as the Iron King both saving him and damning his broken and bitter heart and soul. Taking a deep breath, he pushed all of his disappointment and pain deep down and held his head high. 

He was a King, even if these rebels did not know it. He would carry himself as such. He was more than his doomed soul bond. He was more than just a man whose secret hopes had just been crushed. He was more than just Anthony, who wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his days tinkering with his little machines.

He was a king. He was the Iron King.

The was the protector of the Sunlight Kingdom.

He was the Righteous and Divine Hand of the Great Sol.

He would do his duty to his people and see the rebel scum utterly destroyed by Sol's wrathful gaze.

Thus it had always been and thus it would ever be.


	5. Chapter 5

He was put in a room this time. Sol’s blessings. It is small a cramped but there is a small cot with rough woven bedding, a small potbellied heater in the corner and a spiral woven rug made from fibres keeping his booted feet from the cold stone floor. The dim light emanating from the small heater tinged the rest of the rest of the room, packed with shelves of broken parts and storage units, a beautiful blue; catching on the edges of all the bits and bobs scattered amongst the shelves.

It seemed to be based on a chemical reaction and Tony dropped to his knees before the bulbous looking metal contraption, his sharp and eager eyes taking in every weld and rivet. His placed his hands close, delighting in the delicious warmth being pushed from the welcoming light. 

It was ingenious. He’d seen evidence of the blue lights piped along the carved stone corridors, providing both light and heat to the deep ground tunnels. It didn’t seem to require oxygen or give off smoke, keeping the precious air quality level. There must be some other means of recycling the air, Tony mused. He hadn’t felt a breeze since they’d entered the caves and the air was stale and processed. But it clear and breathing was easier than he’d expected.

Tugging his thick coat tighter around him against the pervasive chill, he stood and explored the room he’d been sequestered too. The storage units were filled with sealed packets of varying densities and labelled with some kind of weird jargon that Anthony could not begin to comprehend. Some of the unit were locked with some sort of simple mechanism. He was sure that given time, he could crack on open. 

The rest of the shelves held broken parts and old paper booked, crudely bound with words almost faded completely. Flipping through one kicked up a cloud of dust and Anthony hastily tucked it back as he hacked violently. He flopped unto the small cot, wincing as it squeaked and sagged. 

It sounded just as poorly as his current situation. He was alone and cold in the darkness, the dim blue light straining to reach the furthermost corners of the room and leaving deep dark shadows to loom above him. He felt so lonely here. In this place so foreign and full of strange faces.

Before his despair crept up too close, the door to his quarters opened with a clank and a bang. The tall brunette filled the doorway, a bucket and a set of folded clothes in his hands. With wary eyes that never left his prisoner, he placed both near the heater and backed away. Next came the short blond with a tray. There was a bowl of hot broth, a torn chunk of crusty bread and a cup of weak, hot tea. The tray was placed carefully on a storage unit before he too disappeared.

The door slammed closed with a finality that had Anthony breathing once again. He let the silence settle fully once again before moving, padding over to the bucket and tray and kneeling before them. The bucket was filled with hot water, steam rising from the clear liquid. 

The clothes consisted of a thick knitted sweater of dark brown and some grey woolen pants. He found a pair of sock rolled up in one of the heavy boots and a set of fingerless gloves in the other. They looked well maintained and smelled clean. There was also a wash cloth with a sliver of soap wrapped in it. He decided to tackle getting clean first, before the water lost its warmth. 

He hesitated before stripping out of his under suit. It was the last thing he had from his armor and he already felt so very vulnerable. Still, he hadn’t washed in over two days and the suit was sticking to his skin uncomfortably. He growled and stripped it off, baring his shoulders to the cold. He shivered as he shimmied out of the leggings and squatted before the bucket. He’d never had such a crude bath before but he quickly worked out the mechanics of it and scrubbed himself clean. There was a rough towel to dry his skin and he slipped into the clothes provided. The sleeves were long and he rolled them up so that he could clean his under suit as best he could. Satisfied that it was as clean as he could get it, he hung it carefully near the heater to dry, planning to put it back on under his clothes when it did.

Tucking the bucket to one side and hanging the wash cloth, towel and sliver of soap nearby, he grabbed the tray and brought it over to his cot. The broth was still warm and delicious despite being barely more that flavoured water. The bread was tough and his jaw hurt from chewing after a while but he finished every last crumb. He needed his strength and for that he needed sustenance. The weak tea warmed his chest and limbs and he drained it with a sigh before shrugging back into the coat and buttoning up the crude hand carved buttons. 

He set the tray aside and contemplated his sleeping situation. The cot was across the room from the heater and that just wouldn’t do. Thankfully, it wasn’t too heavy and he was able to drag it closer to the light and warmth. Tucking his legs up so that they too were swallowed by the coat, he lay curled up on his side, his face and body turned towards the light, even though his training was yelling at him about having his back to the door.

He scoffed and commanded it to be silent. It was too bloody cold for that now. He wouldn’t sleep deeply anyway, this deep in the enemy strong hold. He was so tired. All he wanted was light and warmth. He needed the small semblance of peace it provided. He’d been so long away from Sol’s blessed gaze, it was maddening. He craved the light. He craved the gold painted citadel. He craved the warmth along his shoulders, the beads of sweat that curled his hair and pooled at his collar. He missed Sol’s kiss on his cheeks and forehead.

Most of all his missed his people and despaired at leaving them without a protector. He missed Rhodes and his fond growl. He missed Virginia with her hair of flame and quiet wit. He missed the sunlight reflected in glass and on water. He missed feeling warm through and through.

He fell into a fitful sleep and dreamed of falling.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

He’s shaken awake roughly and comes up with a fist which was caught deftly by the tall brunette. His grip felt like a vice and Anthony catches a glimpse of a metallic hand. He stared, fascinated only to snarl as the grip tightened almost painfully the let go. He cradled it to his body, glaring hotly up at his jailor. 

The brunette jerked his head towards the open doorway, grabbing and pulling at Anthony’s arm when he didn’t move fast enough. He barely had time to snatch his under suit before he was hustled down a series of long and dizzying corridors. Anthony’s mind spun with scenarios. The sudden wake up and hurried pace did not bode well for his situation. 

He quickly ruled out the core breach on the last Legionnaire, they would have all died instantly if that had happened. Maybe they had cracked the memory core. That wouldn’t give them much, just the location of his armor and proof of his identity. Anthony paled. He hoped that this wasn’t the case.

He stumbled out into the harshly lit room he’d stood in before, where he’d first met the captain. There were more people this time and most of them stopped and stared as he passed, their conversations falling quiet. He forced down the urge to squirm uncomfortably. He would not show weakness before these shadow dwellers.  
The Captain and his guard were waiting near the same place they’d first met and Anthony’s mark tingled at the sight of the man. His heart did a funny blip in his chest and he ruthlessly squashed it. He had no use for hope. No use for the squishy emotions Virginia described on days when he felt stretched thin.

The blond gave him a slow and appreciative look. “You look good in our clothes. They suit you.”

Anthony blinked, unsure of what to make of the comment. He kept silent as the Captain chuckled to himself, turning towards the table behind him. He had the Legionnaire’s head in his hands when he turned back around, half of its face plating stripped away. Tony clenched his jaw at the sight of the odd tech cobbled together at the back of its’ half hollow skull.

“We’ve never had a lightsider hostage before.” The blond was saying, “It took us a while to figure out what to do with you. Some of wanted to execute you on sight. Some wanted to torture you for information. In the end I decided that you are worth much more to us as a bargaining tool.”

The blond tilted his head. “Surely the Iron King himself values his general’s lives.”

Anthony could barely suppress his flinch of shock. They thought that he was one of the generals. Thank Sol. They had not yet found out. The blond continued, turning the head in his hands around and around. 

“Of course the argument can be made that you’ve seen too much of our base but we’d be packed and out of here by the time you get back to your precious sunlight kingdom. You’ll never find us among the vast system of caves. So that leaves one last problem. What exactly can we get for you?”

Anthony scoffed, curling his lip at the very idea of a ransom being paid. The captain quirked a curious eye. “You disagree? You don’t think that your precious hand of Sol will trade for your return? The same self-righteous bastard that sent you over the Unlit Mountains to kill us. To roust us out of our homes and murder us. Is your life just as worthless to him as ours?”

Anthony rages, his skin flushing at the callous words. He made a step forward, teeth bared and body trembling. The guard stepped with him, weapons drawn silently, ready to strike him down where he stood. The captain held up a hand, his blue eyes cutting into Anthony’s furious brown.

“Ah. Finally a reaction.” He smirked. “Seems like I’ve hit a nerve. Such faith in your holy protector. Let’s see if the faith is returned or if you will die here, cold and alone in the dark.”

Anthony swallowed heavily, eyes glues to the android head as the captain manipulated the tech and placed it on the table. The head beeped and clicked in a sound that he recognized as it connecting to the hive mind. Oh Sol, they’d managed to boost the signal over the high mountains. His heart leapt in his chest. If they accessed the hive… no… there were protocols in place for that. The unit would have been listed as missing, presumed destroyed. Its ID serial would be flagged as compromised.

A screen appeared above the head, projected from its eyes. It was static at first, as the connection completed. He held his breath, preparing for whatever appeared on the screen. Suddenly Rhodes face appeared, large and furious. Anthony forced himself not to react as the dark skinned man’s face went slack with surprise before hardening with rage. Anthony barely listened to the short, sharp conversation between his general and his captor; his eyes never leaving Rhodes’ narrowed gaze. 

Finally, the dark skinned man slashed a hand across the screen. Silence fell. 

“What is your desire?” he asked solemnly. The captain blinked in surprise but Anthony knew that the general wasn’t talking to his enemy. He took a deep breath and prepared his final and only move.

“The King is dead.” He said clearly, surprising almost everyone in the room. “Long live the Iron King, Divine Hand of Sol.”

Rhodes’ face cracked minutely but then he nodded. “Your will be done.”

The connection cut abruptly, leaving the room in utter silence. 

“Your will be done?” A voice hissed from his side as the redhead stalked up to him, her eyes dark with rage. “Your will? Who are you?”

The Captain stepped forward. “Widow?”

“He gave the general an order.” She spun to face him, her hand flung towards Anthony. “HE gave the first general of Rex Solaris an order. The only person who can do that is….”

“The Iron King holy shit.” The tall brunette sagged against one of the other tables. “Great merciful Nyx, we’re fucked.”

The captain looked at Anthony in shock, his beautiful face hardening with fury. He stalked the few steps between them and loomed over Anthony like some dark behemoth. 

“What have you done? Tell me damn you.”

Anthony looked up at the man unblinkingly. “We shall all fall before Sol’s merciless wrath. We underestimated you once. We will not do it again. You will flee before the reign of fire from above or you shall be crushed but its might, rebel scum. ”

“You would welcome death if it meant killing us too?” The blond stumbled back, aghast. “You’ve signed your death warrant along with ours.”

Anthony let himself shrug. “My life was forfeit the moment I fell to the shadow. Another Iron King will take my place and sit on Rex Solaris. Another will be Righteous and Divine Hand of great Sol and don the holy armor as Protector of the sunlight kingdom. Thus it has always been and thus it will ever be.”

The room erupted around him, some calling for his death, others crying out in fear. Anthony stood calmly in the middle of the chaos, his eyes never leaving the equally still captain. His eye eyes swirled with emotion as he stared back, his beautiful mouth turned down in a frown.

Anthony took this moment to appreciate the man once more, lamenting his ever dwindling chance of having a life of love as all other soul bonded enjoyed. Knowing that his death was near, he let his lonely heart indulge in a fanciful dream. One where he could look upon his love in the light of the sun and kiss him in the warmth of Sol’s blessing. 

He never even saw the blow that knocked him out coming.


	6. Chapter 6

He awoke in an all new room, this one larger than the others and looked lived in, comfortable. His head ached like nothing lese and he swallowed a groan wondering absently why he wasn’t yet dead.

“Because you’re more valuable to me alive than dead, even now.” A deep voice came from one side and he looked over quickly only to wince and cradle his head. He hadn’t realized that he’d spoken out loud. 

Resting his aching skull on the small pillow, he realized that this bed was also infinitely more comfortable than the cot he’d slept on the night before. The room was lit blue, silhouetting the broad shoulders and back of the captain as he worked on something at a large work table. Anthony sat up gingerly, tucking his socked feet into his loaned boots. He stared at the other man for a long moment. 

“They will not pay ransom for me. Nor spare your lives for my sake.”

The blond shrugged, still working on whatever he had before him. Anthony curiosity soon got the better of him and he eased off the bed carefully and wandered over to the other man. He was soldering some delicate circuitry that looked like nothing else the brunet had ever seen before. Anthony stepped closer, almost touching the larger man’s arm as he tried to get a better look. The captain froze, glancing over from the corner of his eyes before starting once again.

Anthony’s hands itched to join in, now that the secret of his identity was revealed and he was all but destined to die one way or the other, the bands around his chest had loosened somewhat. He took a deep breath, both to steady himself and to take in the Captain’s scent. He smelled like raw metal, solder and sweat, despite the cold. His pale skin was smooth and looked soft to the touch or too the kiss. 

Anthony ached, his heart twisting at this weakness. Here he was, letting down his defenses before the enemy. Soul mate or not, The Captain was dangerous. He was the leader of the rebel scum, the one who’d united the rabble and had led them against the sunlight kingdom. He was a clever and ruthless scoundrel who the Iron King had sworn to destroy. 

But now, faced with his own death and the passing on of his legacy; he allowed himself to be a little selfish. He bit his lip, the most overt sign of weakness he’d allowed himself yet and shifted a bit closer. The captain froze then shifted away, sliding off the stool as Anthony backed up a few steps. They stared at each other for a while before the blond looked away.

“What is it about you?” he asked softly, almost to himself. “Why do I feel the need to keep you close? You are my sworn enemy. I should kill you now and mount your head on a pike, sending your body back to the citadel in pieces. The others think I’m crazy for keeping you close. In my own quarters even. How have you bewitched me?” 

The brunet’s eyes drag unconsciously to the blond’s soul mark, peeking up over the open collar of his knit shirt. He flushed and looked away quickly but the damage was already done. The captain slapped a palm over the mark and stared at Anthony in shocked dismay.

“No.” he shook his head. “No. it can’t be. Mother Nyx wouldn’t do this to me.”

He stumbled back a few paces before turning on his heel and fleeing the room. Anthony blinked back tears and sank back unto the bed, his heart crumbling in his chest. Sol damn his weak and pitiful heart. Damn his selfish hope. He was right to crush all ideas of love, all dreams of happiness. He was the Iron king… He used to be the Iron King. No doubt the next King had already been crowned and was beloved by the citadel. No doubt they would have a period of mourning for him. Would lay fire gladiolas along the palace walkways and set sunflowers afloat along the crystal clear waters of the great canal. 

Virginia would dress all in white with the rest of the maids, the councilors, the senators and they would make the slow procession down to the hall of kings where an empty tomb would be carved with his name. He knew that Rhodes would mourn him, that Virginia and even Happy would cry a tear for his loss. The rest of the kingdom, they would be rejoice that there was a new Iron King stepping up to protect them. To be the divine hand of a merciful Sol.

He was startled out of his musings when the door slammed open, the large brunet stomping in. “Take off your fucking clothes.” 

Tony blinked then narrowed his eyes. “I will not.”

“Take off your clothes or I will rip them off you.” The man growled. “There’s no way that you’re his soul mated.” 

Anthony knew the look in the other man’s eyes. That crazed denial, that utter disbelief. He knew that if he refused again, that the man would make good on his promise. He stood, carefully pulling off his shirt and setting it aside. Next came his pants and he swallowed his shame at his own nakedness. This was beneath his dignity as king but he was no longer king. He was a prisoner of war and would act as such as to preserve his life for as long as he could.

He look away, his skin flushed as he twisted his leg to show the Sol damned mark on his inner thigh. The brunet stared at the mark in disbelief, reaching forward as if to touch it before stopping in mortification. He glanced up at Anthony with his own shame swirling in those grey eyes. One never touched a mark not their own, not without permission. That was known even in the deepest of penumbra bad lands. 

The soldier stood abruptly, turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Anthony to redress with trembling hands. His face flamed as he clenched his fists on his thighs, his body shaking with boiling rage and icy shame. How dare they? How dare they demand that of him? He bitterly regretted not fighting against it but knew that having his body forcefully stripped would have been worse than death. Damn his logical and rational mind. He wanted to scream and break something. He wanted to find that metal handed soldier and break his jaw with his fists. He wanted to find that blond captain and….

He wanted to…. Sol, he wanted to feel the man against him. He wanted to taste him and touch him everywhere. He wanted to feel his weight against him, their bodies slick with sweat and heated together against the cold. He shook off the very thought of it. It was too painful to contemplate. 

He was not sure how long he sat on that bed before rousing from boredom. He walked over to the work table, gingerly sitting on the stool. His fingers crept closer to the disassembled tech as he glanced at the still closed door. No doubt locked and guarded. When no one crashed through to berate him for his curiosity, he turned back to the table with renewed interest. 

The tech was odd and faintly bio-luminescent and he delved head first into a study of it. His fingers worked nimbly, his sharp mind devouring the new and interesting hungrily. He feasted on learning, investigating, discovering. Glutted himself on satisfaction as he put the strange little thing back together. When it finally clicked its little legs together and blinked its little blue glow lights at him, he gave a soft, joyful laugh. 

“So you’re not so much the boogie man after all.” 

The captain’s voice came from the doorway and Anthony froze for a long moment before setting the little machination down gently. It wiggled a bit on its back before he gently turned it over. It scuttled along the table, diving off the edge and making him lunge to catch it before it broke itself apart on the stone floor.

He cradled it against his chest, scolding it softly before carefully placing it in one of the open tool kits. It chittered and scrambled at the sides before pulsing its lights forlornly. He huffed and pouted at the little thing, valiantly ignoring the man watching him from the shadow of the doorway.

The blond took a step in, closing the door quietly behind him. “I think that I can understand why you didn’t say when we first met. We were sworn enemies.”

Anthony scoffed softly. “We still are. Knowing changed nothing.”

“Really? Nothing at all?” 

The voice was low and it drew Anthony in, thrumming through his entire body as the blond grew closer. He could feel it from his curling toes to his fluttering eyelashes. His mark gave a sharp zing and he gasped. The captain was so close now, he could feel the man’s heat. Feel his breath along the length of his neck. Anthony shuddered and gave a ragged breath.

“We can’t.” he pleaded as the blond pressed against his back, hands coming to rest on his hips. Blood rushed in his veins as his heart raced in his chest. He tried to shift away, hopping off the stool but the blond was quicker and he was soon pinned against the table, face to face.

“It can’t be.” He gasped as the bluest eyes caught his own. “It’s not allowed.”

“Why isn’t it allowed? Tell me.” The blonde growled, reaching up to grasp the brunet’s arms. “Tell me why we can’t be together. We’re soul mated. Soul fated.”

Anthony shuddered at the want that strummed in him at hose whispered words. It hit him like a tidal wave and he tried to fight it before it overwhelmed and drowned him. 

“The Iron King has no heart. The Iron King has not soul.” He needed the blond to understand. “The Iron King has no soul mate.”

“Damn the Iron King. The Iron King is dead. Long live the Iron King.” The captain shook him, snarling. “You’re alive. And you’re here with me. The goddess Nyx wouldn’t bless us like this just for us to turn away. How could Sol ‘the merciful’ demand such of us?” 

He sneered the last few words, his blue eyes sparking in anger. Anthony was left speechless, mouth working as he tried to think of some reason, some argument that didn’t seem weak when spoken out loud. 

“I have a duty?” he finally whispered and the captain smirked.

“You don’t sound too sure of that anymore. You said it yourself, the Iron King is dead. Your duty is fulfilled.” He murmured the last words against Anthony’s cheeks them claims his mouth in a devastating kiss that made the smaller man weak in the knees.

His soul sang, his heart rejoiced, his mind went blissfully silent. He grasped desperately at those broad shoulders, digging dull fingernails into the blond’s back as he tried to crawl inside him. Muscular arms held him close, lifting him easily and depositing him unto the bed. They broke the kiss, staring at each other as they panted for breath. 

Anthony was at war with himself. He had a choice between betraying his kingdom and betraying his soul mated. His rational mind and emotional heart were in all-out battle. His body craved for the blond, yearned for him. The man was like oxygen, like warmth, like light. He couldn’t imagine living without him.

But the man was also a rebel, an enemy of all Anthony had even held dear. A threat to all that he’d dedicated his life to protecting. How could he join with him? How could he stand by his side through life, never knowing the Sol’s warmth or kiss ever again? How could he live in knowing that Rhodes and the new Iron King would be mounting a war against the shadow lands sooner or later, intending to break their ranks and drive them back into the waste lands?

All these doubts and fears must have shown in his eyes because the blond cupped his chilled face with one large, warm hand. “Stay with me, please.”

“Anthony.” The word spilled from the brunet’s lips, startling them both. Suddenly everything seemed just a bit clearer and he decided to give his hopeful heart a fighting chance. “My name … is Anthony.”

The captain’s smile was bright and happy as he repeated the name like it was a precious thing. His blue eyes were warm and full of awe. 

“You can call me Steve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, so i really wanted to finish up this story and got inspired today. this was supposed to be a one shot 2000 words or less. LMAO. that didn't happen. i tried not to make the ending to abrupt and i hope that i accomplished that. hope you enjoyed. My muse was already playing keep away when it came to this story so i wanted to finish while i still had the inspiration. 
> 
> I love how Anthony got less rigid as the story progressed, showing is transition from the Iron King to just a man in love. of course it's all not happily ever after, they would face a lot of challenges with a lot of people unhappy with this turn of events but at least they have a chance now and that makes me happy.


End file.
